


Just a Guy with a Sword

by Jafndaegur



Category: Thunderbolt Fantasy 東離劍遊紀 (TV)
Genre: Badass, Gen, Internal Monologue, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Observant Lin, Shang is a god AU, one cool fight scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:21:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26502055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jafndaegur/pseuds/Jafndaegur
Summary: Lin Xue Ya had run into abandoned gods before. As a well traveled creature, he knew a cursed being when he bumped face first into one. However, every day in his observations, it was almost impossible to imagine the ever humble and sometimes bumbling Shang Bu Huan as a deity.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Just a Guy with a Sword

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I have no idea with what I'm writing for this fandom. But hope you enjoy! This was mostly a study for Lin's character.

Lin Xue Ya had run into abandoned gods before. As a well traveled creature, he knew a cursed being when he bumped face first into one. However, every day in his observations, it was almost impossible to imagine the ever humble and sometimes bumbling Shang Bu Huan as a deity. Yet anytime the man drew his sword or channeled his energy through his meridians—that undeniable fizzle of power, that electric buzz that came with a god’s touch, reverberated through the air in his wake.

It felt like magic.

Anytime Lin tried to approach Lang Wu Yao about the matter, to pry into the musicians head and see what he knew about Shang, he was always met with a cold shoulder. No surprise there. Yet the hositilty this time genuinely seemed to derive from a place of insecurity. So maybe the princess himself didn’t know either. And that was exciting.

Because Lin had run into abandoned gods before, and he had run into cursed beings too. And Shang Bu Huan was both an abandoned and cursed god. All the little pieces that puzzled Shang together were starting to conjoin.

Until Lin had to halt his search. Abruptly. And jarringly.

The air weighed heavy and tepid with the scent of blood. His own leg was broken and he found dragging himself along the floor—much to his prides chagrin—as his only option for movement. The stupid musician lay unconscious on the ground, body prone and fetal while Ling Ya used his strings to try and cast a protective barrier of sorts. But without the red head’s energy or voice, the pipa was at a loss.

And of course Shang was worrying over the both of them, trying to pick each up to carry on his shoulders.

“You really are baffling,” Lin Xue Ya quipped despite the shooting pain that shocked into his hip.

“C'mon man, now is not the time for your voice.” Shang was trying his utmost hardest to pull the trickster onto the right side of his back.

Their enemy, some mindless soul who’d fallen prey to a far more powerful sword than the trio imagined, approached closer—it swung its blade like a stave, without taste or class. But utterly and horrifically brutal.

“You could take him so easily, fallen Shang.” Lin’s voice lilted with a sing-song quality.

The wandering swordsman stared. His brows furrowed, his jaw clenched. But he shook his head. “I need to get you and Lang to safety.”

“And yet the safest place is behind you.” It really was a gambling chip. “Isn’t that right?”

And in a moment’s notice Shang Bu Huan’s presence was gone from his side. Instead the swordsman stood between them and their opponent. His cloak billowed and his raven hair fluttered like rivulets of ink.

His voice rumbled low. “Sometimes it’s best to shut up about things you don’t know.”

And then there it was.

That crackle of life that burned through the air the moment Shang drew his wooden sword. Air and energy bent to his will as he breathed in and out before lunging forward.

Both mystic sword and offender hardly a moment to brace themselves against Shang’s offense. His blade cut through the air as if it were the finest of steels, and it’s echoing ring tembled shrill through the entire clearing. His footwork out-danced their enemy. Gold light swallowed his Formless Rogue sword, and without any moment’s pause, their enemy was gone—lost in heaping pool of their own blood.

“Why didn’t you do that before?” Lin made sure his voice had the best chipper tone he could use to annoy his saviour.

Shang gave an exasperated sigh before plopping down next to Lin. He tore the edge of his cloak and used the sheathe of his sword as a splint. Crimson eyes watched curiously.

“Do what? What I normally do?”

“Ho ho, playing hard to get I see.”

“It’s nothing like that.”

“Well then?”

Shang tied the splint on Lin’s leg as tight as possible, and a small smirk wormed it’s way onto his rugged face when Lin winced. “Whatever I was before, it doesn’t matter. I’m just a guy with a sword now.”

Lin hummed. “What a boring way to look at things.”

“Trust me,” Shang stood and dusted the front of his robe off. Walking to Lang Wu Yao, he picked his friend up—as well as the demon pipa— and carried them on his back. “I’ve had plenty of time to look at things differently. This suits an old idiot like me.”

Lin snorted. _Of course he’d think that way._

Still…Lin had seen a lot of things before. He was a well-traveled creature afterall. Abandoned gods, seen them and met them. Cursed deities, you meet one—you meet them all. But just a man with a sword?

Something so unusual and bizarre, something that left such a magical wake in each step, something like that piqued his interest infinitely.

“What will you do about me Sir Shang?” Lin gestured to his splint.

The swordsman gave him a look over and a smug smile. “You’re smart. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

“Very funny.”


End file.
